


Duel - Version Three: Amnesia

by Shade_Nightwalker



Series: Duel - A Story with Variations [3]
Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 03:41:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14347245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shade_Nightwalker/pseuds/Shade_Nightwalker
Summary: Once Heyes and Curry split up for different jobs, everything went wrong. Can Kid Curry find a way to get out of their hopeless situation?





	Duel - Version Three: Amnesia

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a series of stories with the same beginning, but varying story lines.
> 
> The idea behind the series was to start with the same scene and explore the possibilities for different stories around it. So, they all share at least the duel between the partners, but the reasons why they got to this point and what happens afterwards differ.
> 
> If you have read the previous story you might already know the italic formatted the paragraphs and can go over them faster.
> 
> Thanks to Avoca for proofreading.

_Well, there they stood - in the middle of the main street facing each other down. It would have been a big joke, if it wasn't so serious: Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry - prepared to kill or be killed._

_His heart sank; no way out remained. He couldn't even think of one anymore, he had tried everything. One of them was going to die today. Who? The devil might know..._

_Would he be able to pull the trigger, he asked himself, or might he not even hesitate 'cause his well-trained reflexes would take over?_

_He knew he would die today - one way or the other..._

_The evening sun already cast long shadows and gilded the sky, when he noticed a shade shifted slightly behind his opponent - just out of sight for him - and he saw the weapon in his hand._

_No further thought was required - he did what he had to do, what he always did – protecting his partner. Pulling and aiming was a single smooth motion._

_Three shots sounded._

_Two men hit the ground._

_-o-o-o-_

_Deputy Joshua Smith was confused. He knew the odds to outdraw Kid Curry were stacked against him. How was it possible, that his shot went so totally wrong? Was he just not able to live up to his reputation? It was a tragedy that an innocent had to die, but it truly wasn't smart to step up too close to a duel._

_Since he was buried by the avalanche some months ago he had no memories of his previous life. The deputy badge stuck on his shirt and a short note addressed to Joshua Smith were found in his pocket. The sound was familiar to him otherwise he wouldn’t even know his name. No one knew where he came from. No one knew his destination. So, he stayed in the town called Deceit._

_The only other name he remembered, belonged to the man who lay now in the dust at his feet - Kid Curry. He knew he had been searching for him. It was important, so important he couldn’t think of anything else. It was the only aim in his life; the one thing to hold on to. Everything would turn out well, if he got him. Why? He couldn't remember; maybe he had lost someone dear to him._

_Smith must have been on his tracks for a long time before. It was like he even knew what move he had to expect next. It took some time, but at last it was easy to hunt him down._

_Smith first tried to capture him alive, but that notorious bastard was too slick to get his hands on him. Several times when he got close to Curry he tried to talk him into surrendering but without any luck. Smith knew that it was Curry's partner who was known to be the tricky one and he believed in it. But he had to admit Kid Curry was an excellent liar, even when his ideas were outlandish. Smith smiled mirthlessly while he thought back..._

_-o-o-o-_

_It was a few weeks ago, when he first met him in a Saloon some miles away. Curry stood at the bar and noticed him the moment he entered the room._

_"Heyes! You're alive!" he welcomed him delighted, trying to hug him._

_"What do you call me? My name's Smith. Joshua Smith!"_

_His opposite startled and the bright smile on his face faded._

_"What’s wrong? Don't you remember me?"_

_"I remember you damn well! Maybe you'll be the last person I remember all my life!" Smith snapped. "I don't know what you've done, but I'll turn you in now."_

_"Heyes, you're joking?" Curry replied seriously with an uncertain look in his eyes._

_"Do you see something to laugh about in this face?"_

_"But Heyes ... don't you remember? We had split up. You escorted Slim Huffman to his trial in Kingsburg. His men caused a landslide to get him out!" Curry tried again, “Heyes, you remember our aliases - Smith and Jones!"_

_"The world is full of men named Smith and Jones. Who would use stupid aliases like those?"_

_"But Heyes, Lom gave them to us, Lom Trevors, our friend! The time was running out ... you ..."_

_"Stop complaining and take it like a man! You’re lost. Will you come with me or do I have to bring you down?" He noticed the desperate look in Curry's eyes just before his lights went out. Wrong choice, Curry should have shot him then. He didn't understand why he hadn't..._

_-o-o-o-_

_It was obvious he had to capture Kid Curry – what else should a lawman do with a notorious outlaw? He was wanted dead or alive – it turned out it had to be the first one._

_He strolled to the motionless body on the ground, stopped beside it and lowered his eyes. Wasn’t it odd that such an infamous man could look so innocent and … peaceful? One could imagine seeing a slight happy smile on his face. Besides the wound in his chest there were no other visible marks on his body; he looked like he was sleeping … and he still looked so unbelievably familiar to him. Deputy Smith rubbed his eyes. Maybe he had chased him longer than he had guessed, maybe too long._

_Joshua Smith would be a wealthy man now, but his heart felt empty..._

He hunched down beside the fallen man and couldn’t resist touching him. Cautiously he placed his hand on the man’s chest. A warm feeling that he couldn’t explain ran through his arm up to his chest and spread through his body.

The he noticed it: a heartbeat – slow and barely noticeable. Smith startled while his thoughts run wild. Now that he knew there was still life inside the body, he recognized the other signs, too; the color of the skin and the slowly seeping blood.

“Get the doctor! Fast!” Smith called, pressing his hand upon the wound caused by himself. He would be damned if he’d let a man die like this, if he might be saved as well.

-o-o-o-

Deputy Smith lived through the following days like a sleepwalker. The people in town he met congratulated him, patted his shoulders and he felt – awful.

He didn’t know where to go. He didn’t know what to do. It seemed that with the end of his hunt for Curry his own life ended, too. Suddenly he was glad he had not aimed better.

It drew him to Kid Curry, watching him for hours while he still was unconscious. He gently touched the injured chest from time to time, to reassure himself of the persistent beating of the heart.

The bullet went straight through the body near the heart, but like a miracle the man was still alive. The lung was injured and since yesterday he suffered with wound fever. Smith couldn’t imagine what made Curry hold on to his life despite the pain, but he had no explanation for what he was doing here either.

Nightmares started to haunt him. Wild confusing pictures and episodes he couldn’t understand, revolving around the wounded outlaw. Sometimes he thought he would never be able to sleep in peace again.

Nevertheless, he returned day by day to the sickbed, when his duty was fulfilled. Every night he sat at Curry’s side, cooling the hot forehead, watching the unsteady breathing and calming the man when feverish dreams caught him.

Four days later the fever broke.

-o-o-o-

It was already after sunset nearly a week later, when Curry finally opened his eyes. They needed time to focus, wandering around disoriented until they locked on Smith’s face.

A weak smile appeared on Kid Curry’s face.

“Heyes…” he whispered.

Smith’s heart skipped a beat. Nobody was such an outstanding liar to return from death’s threshold to instantly come up with a false story. The following question of the injured man confirmed that.

“What happened?”

Involuntarily Smith moved closer and placed his slender hand on Curry’s shoulder.

“Don’t speak,” he tried to calm him, “you’re too weak.”

The questioning eyes refused to leave his face and so he added. “I shot you.”

Confusion crossed Curry’s face. “Why?”

Deputy Smith’s thoughts were spinning round his head, reflected by his expressive face. After a while he shook his head. “I’m not sure anymore.”

The smile on the pale face widened a bit “…not one of your brightest days, Heyes…”

“You might be right …” Smith agreed totally confused.

-o-o-o-

Deputy Smith continued his daily visits. Sometimes he supported the injured man while he ate and drank, sometimes he just kept him company.

Curry had asked if he would read to him and he had no reason to refuse. The outlaw’s saddlebag contained a well-worn book by Mark Twain so Smith began with that.

He was surprised how much he loved this time of the day and how much he enjoyed the story of ‘ _Life on the Mississippi’_ , it seemed pleasantly familiar to him.

They never spoke about the past … or the future either. Their relationship stayed undefined and was simply accepted by them both.

-o-o-o-

About a week later Kid Curry was on the mend and the time was approaching, when new decisions had to be made.

“You still want to turn me in?” Curry asked one day.

He received an acknowledging nod.

“Why do you do this for me, then?” the Kid inquired.

“You’re my bounty….” Smith answered not convinced by his own words.

“You’re lying,” Kid Curry replied casually.

“You’re right. I don’t know. I simply _have_ to,” admitted Smith and shrugged.

“You still don’t remember me, huh?“ Kid Curry asked him softly.

Smith shook his head.

“Then kiss me,” the Kid ordered him.

“ _WHAT?_ ” Smith startled while a couple of varying emotions flashed upon his face.

“Shoot me afterwards if you have to! I can’t go on like that anyway!” Kid Curry blurted out. “But first … just … kiss me….”

Deputy Smith hesitated for a few moments and shrugged then. Worse things had happened during the last few months and perhaps this action would somehow clear his confused mind.

Smith moved closer, closed his eyes and bent down to touch the lips of the other man - they were warm and smooth and tender.

It felt strange and familiar at the same time. He kissed him again more intensely. He missed the taste of cigars and whisky but underneath an unfamiliar herbal note he recognized unmistakable … the Kid.

The lips he touched opened slightly inviting the silver tongue to join a well-known and familiar dance. He was thunderstruck by the feelings rushing through his soul as well as the memories that came along with them.

When he finally drew back and opened his eyes again the Kid noticed that Deputy Smith was gone. Heyes’s dark brown eyes locked with Kid Curry’s sky-blue ones.

“How was it possible to forget something like that?” Hannibal Heyes asked unbelievingly while tears filled his eyes.

-o-o-o-

When the time came, Deputy Smith volunteered to transfer Kid Curry to Cheyenne alone.

“I know him well and he is still suffering. I’ll have no problem with him. I caught him once, so what could happen anyway?”

After some discussion he was permitted to do so.

Preparations were made and two days later Deputy Joshua Smith and outlaw Kid Curry left the town heading north towards Wyoming.

At the first opportunity they changed directions and increased their speed.

“We have to say goodbye to ‘ _Smith_ ’ and ‘ _Jones_ ’, I’d guess.” Heyes mentioned. “I never liked them anyway.”

“Wouldn’t go that far - Joshua Smith was still a schemer, but Thaddeus Jones was a man I would have liked to know better,” replied the Kid.

“C’mon, Kid, you’re kidding! _Thaddeus_? Really?” Heyes grinned. “We’ll find you a new one - a better one!”

“…says the man whose parents called him Hannibal…”

“Hey, Kid, don’t get proddy - that wasn’t really _my_ fault!”

“Maybe they suspected something…”

They rode a while in silence one of them grinning the other one grumbling but it didn’t last very long. Soon Heyes bright smile was back again accompanied by a mischievous look in his dark brown eyes.

“What about ‘George Honeywell’? I could call you ‘Honey’ then…” he beamed a full dimpled smile at his partner and friend.

“Heyes, you still don’t remember _everything_ , do you? If there’s one to be called ‘Honey’ it would be you, my dear. I’ll show you when you lay outspread on white sheets in front of me next time - begging me to love you hard.”

Heyes heartbeat increased and a lascivious sparkle flashed in his eyes. “Show it to me now!”

Kid Curry laughed. “Heyes, you’re calling for punishment!”

Heyes wetted his lips and showed a wicked smile.

“Is that a promise?”


End file.
